


What's In A Name

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danarius is finally dead, but there's still some things that Hawke and Fenris must discuss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's In A Name

The fire was gently crackling as Hawke entered his estate. Yet another long day in Kirkwall was over. Meredith had made demands of him, there had been a fight with another insane blood mage, this one in the alienage, so, unfortunately, only Aveline would express concern over the innocents who were harmed in the process among the authority figures in the city, a fight with a Tevinter mage, and then a group of demon thralls had been perched on his front doorstep and made a mess of Bodahn’s azaleas had topped off Hawke’s day and he was ready to sit by the fire and just try to let the day’s events slip away while he let the adrenaline burn off before he went to bed.

Mercifully, Bodahn and Sandal had already shuffled off to bed, long since used to Hawke spending the night out around town. He slipped into his favorite chair, staring at the fire in the reading room, and felt himself mercifully relax for the first time in several hours. Maybe days.

“You should lock your door,” came a voice from the doorway leading back into the main floor of the mansion. He turned to see Fenris standing there, looking awkward. It might have had something to do with the fact that, for once, he’d come to Hawke’s estate without his massive sword holstered to his back. 

“That’s why I have a guard dog,” Hawke countered.

In reply, Fenris just glanced back out to the front of the mansion, where Hawke’s mabari lay in front of the other fireplace, peacefully snoring, a hind leg twitching slightly, his tongue hanging out. “Yes, I can see your crack security system is very effective,” he remarked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Hawke shrugged. “He knows you well enough by now, he’s not concerned.” Of course, the last time that Fenris had stepped foot in the Hawke mansion had been years ago, the night of their one infamous tryst together. But Fenris still joined them on excursions and mabari had long memories, and Hawke had invited no one else to the mansion for such... intimate activities in the time since Fenris had fled the mansion. To the mabari, that seemed an indicator of Fenris still being ‘his.’ Not that I’ll ever put it to him like THAT...

The reminder of their night together did beg a question for Hawke as he rose from his seat. “What brings you here, Fenris?”

“I... I was hoping that we might speak.”

“Not that I’m not pleased to have your undivided attention, but didn’t we talk earlier today?” It was rare that his friends came to him to talk. When they had, it usually led to them asking for him to resolve some standing issue of theirs. Aveline branched out into city business, but still, they generally came to Hawke not for his words but for his actions, specifically for him to engage in said actions. Experience told him that it was what his friends and companions considered him good for. That or they actually came to speak with his dog, rather than him...

Fenris nodded. “We did. However, I thought that... perhaps we could talk some more.” Hawke resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow and ask about the possibility of this being a talk sans clothing. It had taken three years to get Fenris to open up to him again, to let him touch him without flinching, where he would accept the intimacy of the gesture. He figured that it would still be some time to convince him to return to his bed. He cared enough about Fenris that he was willing to give him the time that he needed.

He walked to the writing desk and pulled out the desk chair, motioning for Fenris to take the more comfortable chair. Fenris was surprised, not used to gestures of that sort. Or, Hawke figured, being able to have this sort of comfort. “What, exactly, do you want to discuss, Fenris?” Hawke asked, keeping his voice gentle. He almost felt like he was dealing with a wounded animal. Actually, the description was particularly apt with Fenris, all things considered. 

For a moment, Fenris paused, ordering his thoughts and trying to adjust to the unusual attitude around him. “I... Tell me about your sister, Hawke.”

That hadn’t been the request that Hawke had expected, but he was willing to follow this to a conclusion. “Bethany... Our father told me from a young age that my first duty was to protect her. For a while, when I realized that he meant that if she caused an accident with her magic and he wasn’t around, I should take the blame, I hated her for it.” That had been a very uncomfortable couple of years. Hawke had already been having his issues with Carver, as Father had to spend so much time with both Hawke and Bethany, training them in magic, and not enough with him. Alienation among all the siblings made the Hawke family home an awkward place to be, even with Mother trying to pay peacemaker between everyone. 

“You have never spoken anything of the sort before,” Fenris said, used to hearing Hawke speak of his younger sister as a gentle, caring soul, someone almost in awe of her older brother and their relationship had been spoken in such a way that Fenris had assumed that it was an ideal relationship.

“I don’t like thinking about those days. I was cruel and selfish about it.”

That surprised Fenris. “I don’t understand. You were justified, being told to protect your sister at your expense. Your father was saying that she was more important than you.”

“That was what I thought as a child. As I got older, though, I realized that it was to protect not just Bethany but her and Carver. They were twins. If she was responsible, if the fact that she had magic got out, people would have assumed that Carver was an apostate as well, even if the templars didn’t believe he had magic, that would still destroy his and mother’s chances for a peaceful life, even after father, Bethany, and I were gone. I learned that it was for their protection, that father trusted me to take care of the both of them, and I realized that it was also gesture of his trust of me.” Fenris seemed confused at that. “Father knew that I loved a challenge, and that I was good with my magic. So he presented it to me as a bit of a competition. If I couldn’t help Bethany gain control enough in her skills to make sure she didn’t accidentally light the pasture on fire, then I’d lose.”

Fenris nodded in understanding, getting what Malcolm Hawke had been instilling in his son. “And you hate to lose.” He shook his head. “It still seems like he was manipulating you.”

“He was. But it was to protect the family, to protect both my brother and sister, to teach me that there are some things more important than myself. That what we had was more important than just one of us, but was about protecting all of us, protecting the family. And Bethany... After I realized that, we mended fences, and... she was the light in my life. She kept Carver and I from killing each other, playing mediator for the both of us after Father died. And she kept me grounded, helped make sure that I didn’t get myself into trouble and attract the templars.” Sometimes, Hawke had been unable to resist playing a few pranks on Ser Bryant. Bethany had been the one who made sure that he’d kept from genuinely using magic around the templar and stick to the basics, like pouches of water dropped from the roof of the Chantry and itching powder in the armor. 

Fenris nodded solemnly. “So your relationship with her was very important to you.”

“Her, Carver, Mother, Father... Family is one of the most important things there is, Fenris. Even if it’s not blood, like you, Aveline, Varric, Isabela, Sebastian, Merrill, even Anders.” There was much about his life from the moment he and his family had made their escape from Lothering that Hawke would consider nothing but bad. The family that he had forged here in Kirkwall was not one of them. In fact, they were probably the one bright spot he had left. 

For a long moment, Fenris was silent. He was mulling over the words, even managing to avoid brooding for a brief period. “I don’t know my family. Varania was... is the only family I know of, and I only know her because Hadriana attempted to use her as leverage against me.” 

“Have I ever mentioned that I’m glad she’s dead?” Hawke couldn’t help it, the irreverent joke bursting from his lips before he could stop himself. The sentiment would be appreciated, but Fenris was opening up, and even one ill-timed joke could make him close off.

But, fortunately, Fenris did not seem put off by the joke. There was even the hint of a smile on his face. “It has, on occasion, been mentioned.” The hint of a smile didn’t last long, however. “You had no complaint against my killing Hadriana, but you stopped me from killing Varnnia. Was it because you saw something of your sister in her?”

“No. Bethany wouldn’t have attempted to turn me over to a magister for her own benefit. Maybe if I’d scuffed her favorite staff, but...” There was the irreverence again. Sometimes, Hawke wondered why he couldn’t help himself. “I stopped you because... someday, you might want to know about your family, where you come from, who you were... before.”

Fenris scoffed at that. “I don’t see that happening. Varania was all the family that I had, and she would have chosen the magisters over me. That tells me much of her opinion of me. And as for who I was... I find myself wondering if I would even wish to return to him anymore. Even if I could remove Danarius’s branding from my skin, would that restore the brother that she knew? Somehow, I feel it’s unlikely that I ever will be able to recover those memories, let alone be who she once called brother.” 

The admission was new, though Hawke had wondered it himself for some time now. ‘Leto,’ Varania had called him. But how long had he been nothing but Fenris? The seven years Hawke had known him, plus a handful of years before, both as Danarius’s slave and on the run from the magister. More than a decade, probably, knowing only his life as the man he was now. Leto had ceased to be when he’d been branded with the lyrium, a new man born in his place. Even if Fenris could gain access to those lost memories, could he ever truly be Leto again? It didn’t seem likely. Not given the man that he’d become ever since.

“Did you ever think that was possible? That you COULD be Leto again?”

There was a long moment as Fenris considered it. His brow furrowed in confusion as his thoughts processed. “I don’t know. It once drove me, the chance to regain my memories... But now... When Varania called me that, I felt... nothing. I didn’t know who he was, and... For the first time since I got these brandings, since I lost my memories... I didn’t care about it. I saw her, and... I didn’t feel like I needed to know what she offered.” It was as if he was realizing it as he spoke. He seemed surprised by the words, but Hawke could tell that he meant it. “I’ve spent years seeking what information I could about who I was before Danarius had me marked. And yet, when I had the opportunity to learn... I sent her away. Varania could have told me much... But how could I trust her?” Fenris looked to Hawke, his eyes taking on the appearance of a sad puppy, not that Hawke would repeat that out loud. “She said that Danarius promised to make her a magister. That her freedom was a curse. But I have spent years fighting for my freedom. I don’t understand...”

“The problem with being free to choose, Fenris, is that some people will still choose subservience.” If there was one thing that Hawke had taken away from the conflict with the mages and the templars, it was that. 

Though true, Hawke could tell that that answer didn’t sit well with Fenris. “It still goes against everything that I have come to believe since I escaped from Danarius. And if that is what awaits me if I were to attempt to learn more of who I was... Perhaps I am better off not knowing.”

Hawke wanted to pull Fenris close, but that would likely hurt more than help, so he settled for gently laying his hand over one of Fenris’s. “If I might say so, I don’t know who Leto was. But I know who Fenris is. That’s more than enough for me.”

That got a gentle smile from Fenris. “I am glad you believe so.” He looked Hawke over, as if considering him. “I find it... so curious that one mage inflicted so much pain upon me... and another brings me such... joy.” 

Hawke winced – that could easily turn into a conversation that he didn’t want to have right now. It was a can of worms he didn’t feel up to opening.

Unfortunately, Fenris had always been observant, always been capable of noticing even the little things in Hawke’s face and body language. “What is it, Hawke?”

_Damnation..._ Best to just lance the boil and get it over with, then... He let his hand slip away from Fenris’s and sighed. “You do recognize that every time you make a comment about the evils of mages, you’re insulting me as well?” He had never spoken to Fenris about this, and, given how many years they’d known each other, it had probably been a mistake to let the subject lie for so long, but, particularly given everything that was going on in Kirkwall these days, the attitude towards mages had begun weighing more and more on Hawke’s mind. The last thing he needed was for the man that he loved to be treating all mages – mages like Hawke - like they deserved what went on in the Circle, in the Gallows. He needed this cleared up now, before things devolved further.

Rightly, Fenris seemed surprised that Hawke was only now bringing this up. “You have never said anything before. Given your...” A sneer crossed his face. “...relationship with Anders, I thought...” He trailed off, recognizing that if he’d openly agreed with Fenris, it would basically make him out as a hypocrite.

Hawke still had to say it. “I’m still an apostate, Fenris. If I really believed that mages didn’t deserve some kind of freedom, I’d have turned myself over to the Circle years ago. I may not agree with Anders or his methods, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think what he’s saying is entirely without merit.” Though the richness of the fact that all of his ‘free the mages’ talk was coming from the mouth of an abomination seemed to be an indicator for Anders to not be the poster child for the cause. “I know you suffered at hands of Danarius and the Tevinter mages, and it probably doesn’t help that Kirkwall has crazies popping out of the woodwork, but... I can’t be your exception to prove the rule. If this... is going to work, you can’t keep blaming all mages for the attitude of the Tevinters.” Hawke had known this conversation would come, and, if he was honest with himself, probably should have happened long ago. But he’d enjoyed the time he’d spent with Fenris too much to let himself just casually cause it to come crashing down around his ears.

For a long few moments, Fenris was silent. Hawke got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he assumed that it was not going to be pleasant when he finally spoke. “I... suppose you have a point.” Hawke had to remind himself that the reluctance in his voice was more likely due to acknowledging that there were mages who were responsible with their magic, rather than being reluctance to admit that Hawke was right. “You... are not the only responsible mage. I have heard of the ones who accompanied the Hero of Ferelden, who stopped the Blight. And I have spoken with the Knight-Captain on occasion, and he spoke of some mages who resisted with happened at the Circle there.” Then he looked to Hawke, with discomfort in his posture. “I don’t know, however, how I am supposed to just move beyond what the magisters did.”

“I’m not saying that you have to forget it. But Danarius and the other magisters were responsible. Not all mages. Outside of Tevinter, the mages are, in many ways, like you were. You’ve seen what it’s like in the Gallows. Mages there are slaves in all but name. If Bethany were still alive, she would be locked away. Meredith was willing to threaten to lock me away in the Gallows if I didn’t help her, she’d probably hold Bethany over my head as well.” She’d already indicated that the only thing that kept her from coming after him now was his popularity among the citizens of Kirkwall after the fight with the Arishok, and that if he didn’t dance to her tune, she’d find some way to come after him anyway.

It seemed that Fenris was listening. Hawke knew that it was a show of the trust Fenris had of him that he was even considering this. Maybe if Fenris hadn’t been able to kill Danarius he wouldn’t have, but with resolution, it seemed, came a chance to get the perspective that he needed. 

“You’re asking much of me, Hawke. This has been... something I have believed for years. It’s... not an easy thing for me to do, to change my entire way of thinking.”

“I’m not asking for it overnight. Just... Try to open your mind to the possibility that mages beyond Tevinter are not the same as Danarius.” He lightly placed his hand upon Fenris’s. “You know that I’m not. And I can tell you for sure, I’m not the only one. Kirkwall may not be the best example for you, but there are mages who are not looking to dominate and control, merely live.” He smiled. “And if you intend to share your life with one, I would hope you would be willing to concede that he is a far different kind of man than Danarius was.”

“Far different. And I prefer it that way.” Gently, Fenris took his hand. “I will try, Hawke. For you.” 

For a moment, Hawke considered, and then decided to risk it. He came in for a kiss, pulling as close to Fenris as he thought he could – which turned out to be enough for Fenris to pull up against him.

When Fenris pulled back slightly, there was a smirk on his lips. “The last three years without you... have left me with regrets, Hawke.”

“We should do something about that, shouldn’t we?”

“Indeed.”


End file.
